


Where the petals flow

by lessStress



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Friendship, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Infidelity, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Raised by Narcissists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24622183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessStress/pseuds/lessStress
Summary: Nothing is getting in the way of Jongdae and Minseok to be arranged for marriage – except the two of them.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79
Collections: Shall we Chen? Fictional Fest First Round





	Where the petals flow

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prompt SWC185.
> 
> I hadn't had this much fun writing in a while, so thanks to the prompter! 
> 
> If you'd rather not read infidelity in any form, please move on to the next fic. 
> 
> Thanks to Z for beta-ing and being so supportive!

Minseok is just getting off work when he receives the news.

It is more muscle memory than conscious thought when he thanks the person on the other line, hangs up the phone and starts the engine to drive home. He fights all the instincts telling him to hit the gas and leave the city.

As he crosses the bridge overlooking the city skyline, he wonders what this would mean and how things would change, perhaps for good.

His autopilot is set off when he enters through the door and smells the sweet, buttery aroma from the kitchen.

“Kyungsoo?” Minseok steps in.

His housemate waves from behind the island. “Hyung, come in and grab a slice.”

The two of them soon settle at the dining table, each with a plate of Kyungsoo’s freshly baked strawberry pie. Seconds pass and Minseok has yet to pick up the fork.

“You look… shellshocked,” Kyungsoo says with a lopsided smile. “Is the pie really that impressive-looking?”

“What happened, Kyungsoo?” Minseok says. “The last time you baked something was when you shrank my favourite shirt in the wash.”

“So today’s probably not the best day for me to drop this on you.” Kyungsoo lowers his gaze and plasters a slight pout on his face – an expression Minseok knows very well as Kyungsoo’s version of puppy eyes. And it’s working.

“You might as well drop it now. At least we have this pie to soften the blow.” Minseok caves in and forks a small piece. The crust melts in his mouth – it is delicious.

“If you say so,” Kyungsoo could barely hold back his grin. “I’m moving in with Baekhyun.”

Minseok’s eyes widen, his bite turning sweet and sour. “That’s… that’s great, Kyungsoo. That’s a huge step. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Kyungsoo beams. “Still, feel free to reach out to me for anything. Even if it’s just for baked goods.”

Minseok hums, stabbing at a stray strawberry piece. He feels it coming. Everything is changing, and he doesn’t think he’s ready.

“Anyway. Had a rough day?”

He takes a deep breath. “I also have some news.”

Kyungsoo looks on.

“The arrangement company called. I’ve been assigned a partner.”

⛆

Like a natural alarm, his body jolts awake at the end of the two-hour train trip. Jongdae hops off the train and starts lugging his bag on his walk to his mother’s house, where he is staying for the weekend.

Sunlight spills over and shines through the lush, high-hanging leaves, and he can smell the magnolias as he passes through. For a moment, he forgets why ever wanted to leave this town.

When he arrives at the house with the vine canopy, he is immediately taken into a hug by his mother. “Come in, your brother should be done with the food soon.”

The sound of sizzling fills the dining room as Junmyeon flips the stir-fry on the pan, while his wife sets the table. “Hey, Jongdae.”

“Hey, hyung. Good to see you, Joohyun-noona. I brought those gourmet cookies from the city that you asked about the other day.” Jongdae produces the boxes from his bag.

“Oh, thanks a lot, Jongdae,” Joohyun replies, reaching for one of the packs. “Been craving these for a while.”

“Save that for dessert! Don’t spoil your appetite just yet,” Junmyeon throws her a look, but Joohyun simply responds with that grin she usually reserves for when she takes more than one sausage tester at the supermarket.

The four of them soon begin eating. Junmyeon squeezes Joohyun’s free hand as she shares a story about the kids in her school, and Jongdae couldn’t feel happier for the couple. Ever since they met, something has shifted in Junmyeon – there is now a light that Jongdae didn’t know was even missing in the first place. And he believes the news he’s about to share will bring him closer to that position, too.

Jongdae is woken up from his trance when he is asked, “How about you, Jongdae?”

He could not hold back his smile. “I got the call from the company.”

The other three pause in surprise. “Does that mean…”

“They got me a partner. I’m meeting him tomorrow.”

The table erupts into a cheer. Junmyeon gets up and embraces his little brother, nearly making Jongdae choke on his meal, but he laughs anyway. They all do.

Jongdae can’t wait to return to the city and finally meet his partner.

⛆

It’s a bright, sunny day, and Jongdae looks out the bus window imagining what his partner would be like.

He has been preparing for this day since he received the phone call. He looked up the restaurant to check for any dress codes. He’d spent hours scouring through his wardrobe for the perfect outfit. He even considered getting a bouquet of flowers, but eventually decided against it. Built-up anticipation is running through his veins.

He arrives at the restaurant. The walls are marble, and their table is situated by a floor-to-ceiling glass window that boasts the view of the harbour. He checks himself out on the spoon laid on the table, hoping his struggle to fall asleep last night doesn’t show on his face. He hopes his partner slept well instead of him.

Minutes have passed when a man shows up, walking hurriedly behind the waiter. Jongdae stands up and takes him in as he approaches. The person looks young – perhaps college-aged – with sharp, incisive eyes that are simultaneously guarded and boring through him.

“Jongdae-ssi?” the man calls, and Jongdae nods. The way he says his name is lulling. “Apologies for being late. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all. And you are?”

“Kim Minseok.”

⛆

Minseok hates being late, even if by mere minutes. Despite his mixed feelings about this arrangement, he could not help but chastise himself for dragging out, taking the long way around in his drive to the meeting place.

His regret grows even more when he sees the person, whom he only knows by a provided first name, already settled at the table.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re pretty much on time!” Jongdae laughs. “It’s a really beautiful day, too, outside, wouldn’t blame you for getting held up on your drive.”

Minseok doesn’t even care much about the weather, but he finds himself wanting to.

Jongdae’s smile is warm and contagious, and he always comes up with a topic or a question. Most of all, he seems to have a good grasp of people – of him. He listens well and learns quickly about what things to say and to avoid.

When Minseok asks what motivated him to sign up, Jongdae says, “I want to find someone I can be with for a long time.”

He doesn’t say the word marriage, but Minseok doesn’t want to go there.

It is tradition – most people paired by the company eventually go on to tie the knot. Because the company always gets it right, Minseok’s parents would say.  
So Minseok changes the topic, and Jongdae doesn’t push on. They talk about their jobs, age difference, and living situation.

Jongdae says he lives on the outskirts of the city. “But your office is just by the CBD,” Minseok points out.

“Yeah, but the rent is cheap,” Jongdae says, still with that upturned smile. “It’s right by the station, and the commute isn’t too bad.”

Minseok knows that route, and the trip takes at least 40 minutes each way if there’s no delay – which there often is.

He thinks about what he’s about to say for a moment. Later, in hindsight, he will say it’s just for practicality, or to appease any incoming questions about wedding plans or other arrangements with his partner.

But he really isn’t thinking much when he says, “My housemate is moving. Do you want to take his place?”

⛆

It takes Jongdae a few deep breaths before he could ring the bell.

He keeps telling himself this is normal – a lot of people move in with their assigned partners within weeks or even days. Still, the sight of all his belongings packed in two large suitcases scares him, makes him feel unrooted.

God only knows why he said ‘yes’ so easily, to someone he barely knows.

In his defense, it’s not like Minseok is a complete stranger – he knows Minseok is two years older (to his surprise), has a double degree, and works at that advertising agency three kilometres away from his accounting firm.

But it’s the unknown that feels glaring.

Amid his thoughts the door finally opens, revealing the person he is expecting.

“Good evening, Jongdae-ssi,” the man greets with a curt smile before screening his surroundings. “Is this everything?”

The formality that follows his name tickles him. “Just call me Jongdae. And yes, these are all.”

Minseok helps carry one of the suitcases before Jongdae could refuse and lets him in. He walks Jongdae through the apartment – the kitchen, the bathroom, the laundry area and eventually the bedroom. As they tour the place, Jongdae notices how immaculate the apartment is – the floor is shiny, the jars are precisely lined up, and even the air has a faint antiseptic scent. He feels like he is dirtying the house as he moves around.

“This is your room,” Minseok says. “As you can see, you can lock the door from the inside. Bedding is in the wardrobe. I gave you the key code… and, uh, I think that’s all. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen – I think there’s some brownies left from my old housemate. If you need anything else, I’m just next door.”

Jongdae follows Minseok out of the room, but stops when he realises the other guy is heading into his own room.

Before he realises it, Jongdae calls out. “Excuse me.”

Minseok flicks his head in the doorway, and words suddenly escape Jongdae.

When he still hasn’t said anything, Minseok prompts, “Yes?”

Jongdae swallows. “Nothing. Have a good evening.”

He gives him a small, pursed smile. “You too, Jongdae-ssi.”

Jongdae feels his chest tightening as Minseok disappears behind the closed door.

⛆

This is one of the times where Minseok is especially grateful for Baekhyun’s whims. He is throwing yet another dinner party – supposedly in the name of love.

“When Kyungsoo moves into your household, of course it’s something to celebrate,” Baekhyun opines, prompting a swat from Kyungsoo. “Speaking of which, I heard your partner moved in a week ago, hyung. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Kyungsoo and Baekhyun give him a look, which he hates. It’s similar to the reaction from his parents when they found out that he’d been assigned with a partner. His mother demanded to know everything about Jongdae – his job, his background, his face, anything to show that he is a real person.

_“I’m still trying to figure this out, Mom,” he said. “Nothing’s set in stone yet.”  
“But you’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”  
“We haven’t really talked about this,” he said. “I, I’m not 100 per cent sure if that’s where we’re going.”_

At least it held her back for the moment – but he’s sure they’re bound to return to the topic again soon.

He thought at least his friends would understand. He breaks off his train of thoughts and tries to humour the hosts – it’s a night for fun, anyway. “Oh come on, it takes time, okay? Not all of us can be as lucky as you two, to find each other without the company’s help.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth, ready to disagree, but a peck on his forehead from Baekhyun distracts him. “That’s right, he is lucky!” Baekhyun pipes, earning him another swat from Kyungsoo.

More people come in through the door, and Baekhyun puts down the liquor bottles in favour of welcoming the new guests.

Among them, a particular person catches Minseok’s attention. There stands their college friend, the formidable former film club president and faculty representative. Pretty as ever, if not more. “Kyungsoo, I didn’t know you would invite Hani.”

“Why wouldn’t I? She’s Baekhyun’s friend, too. And I thought your thing with her was done on good terms?”

“It was.” Their eyes meet, and Minseok waves at Hani. To his surprise, she lights up and approaches him with arms extended wide.

⛆

Jongdae normally treasures his alone time. But his new room is driving him crazy, even if it is bigger and has more sunlight than his old shoebox of an apartment.

He tries to find something to do, checking for any trash that needs to be thrown out or any laundry that needs drying, but there’s none. Everything is spotless and in order.

Jongdae racks his brain for anything that is probably missing, and he finally finds it – the eggs and bread are running low. He knocks Minseok’s room, but there is no answer. He must be away.

Jongdae decides to go anyway.

He walks to the supermarket a few blocks from Minseok’s apartment and picks up some items, including some packs of his favourite Cheetos. As he pays for the groceries, he wonders if this will be too much. He wonders if Minseok even likes Cheetos.

He comes out of the shop with a full bag just in time for the golden hour. The sun is a palette of red and orange and an overwhelming peach, swirled with clouds all around. Patches of light bleed on the streets, and when they shine on Jongdae, he basks in the momentary warmth.

It’s as though the cloud, too, washes over him as the sun sets and disappears. He knows he would rather not be alone tonight.

So he resorts to the nearest pojangmacha and calls his co-worker, the closest thing he has to a friend in this city.

⛆

Chanyeol comes in with a bandaid over the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep, it’s just a scrape! Football accident,” Chanyeol says, plopping next to Jongdae and ordering tteokbokki. “I knew Moonkyu was getting too close, but I really didn’t want him to make that goal.”

“More than keeping your nose intact?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “I guess so. But it’s worth it. Our team won!”

Jongdae snorts. This is not the first time his gangly colleague pulls something like this for five minutes of glory.

“That’s nice, but you could have gotten a concussion.”

“You know me. Better sorry than safe.”

Jongdae blinks. Chanyeol may have an unchecked impulse and no sense of self-preservation, but these days the recklessness has been inspiring a pang of jealousy in him.

Two bottles of soju soon arrive on their table, and Jongdae doesn’t bother to finish his meal. Better sorry than safe indeed.

⛆

Minseok thinks he’s tipsy enough as it is, but Jongdae is apparently in an even worse state.

Minseok is just back from Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s place when he finds Jongdae hovering by the apartment door, propped up by a tall, hoodie-clad man with a bandaid on his nose bridge and a full shopping bag on his feet.

“Hello! I’m Chanyeol, Jongdae’s friend from work,” the man nearly yells. Minseok wonders if it is drunkenness or his natural disposition. “He can’t enter the codes, as you can see.”

Minseok scrambles to open the door. He puts Jongdae’s free arm over his shoulder, and Jongdae groans as they carry him along the hallway. Once they place Jongdae on the living room couch, Minseok thanks Chanyeol and offers to call him a ride home.

Chanyeol nods, and his fluffy hair bobs along with the movement. “That’s so nice! You’re such a nice housemate. And Jongdae is nice, too. I wish Jongdae would ask to hang out more. Do you want to hang out next time? Can I get your phone number?”

When they’re bidding goodbye, the tall guy pulls Minseok into a hug and waves until the elevator door closes.

His muscles feel increasingly heavy as he realises Jongdae is still mostly unconscious on the couch. He takes Jongdae by the arms and waist, carrying him to the bedroom. It is only then that Minseok notices some of Jongdae’s belongings – clothes, books and other trinkets – are still stacked in the open, laid suitcase, yet to be unpacked.

“Mmmh.”

The mumble draws Minseok’s attention, and he puts some pillows under Jongdae’s head to allow him to breathe better. He fights the urge to brush his fingers through the hair.

“Why don’t I know,” Jongdae mutters as Minseok pulls a blanket over him. “Even Chanyeol knows. Why don’t I know?”

“Know what,” Minseok replies absent-mindedly.

“Huh?”

“Know what, Jongdae-ssi,” Minseok laughs.

“That’s it,” Jongdae says, voice raised but eyes still closed. “That’s it! I know now… please stop calling me that. No Jongdae-ssi. No. Just Jongdae.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“So no to that. No. Mmmh.” Jongdae stirs, grumbling some more. And then it goes quiet.

Minseok drags himself out of the room. He feels far more awake and sober than when he got in.

⛆

Jongdae wakes up with a headache and a churning in his stomach. He hadn’t drunk that much in a while.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand and is surprised to find a pack of painkillers and a glass of water he almost knocks off.

When he walks out of the room with the now emptied glass, he is welcomed with the smell of butter and sizzling pan. It is the first time Jongdae shares a morning with Minseok, and it gives him flutters to see the older guy there, cooking in a plain t-shirt with dishevelled hair, bathed in filtered rising sunlight.

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Minseok says. “Do you want eggs? I’m making some scrambled.”

Jongdae wonders if he’s hearing things right. “Uh. Yeah… scrambled is good, thank you.”

When the eggs are ready, Jongdae reluctantly takes the seat in front of Minseok. He doesn’t remember what happened last night past the pojangmacha. He hopes he didn’t embarrass himself in front of Chanyeol, or worse, Minseok. Maybe he can ask his co-worker later.

“By the way, Jongdae,” Minseok says by way of breaking the silence, “I unpacked your groceries, because I think some of the items may spoil. I hope you don’t mind. Your Cheetos are in the cupboard.”

Jongdae hums. He wants to test the water, hopes he doesn’t have it all wrong.

“Do you like Cheetos, hyung?” He tries his best to make the last word sound airy, carefree. Natural.

Minseok looks up from his eggs and stares at Jongdae. Seconds feel like minutes before Minseok breaks into a smile. “I do.”

Jongdae is so relieved he lets out a breathy laugh.

⛆

Something has lifted. The thought of returning home or going out of his room no longer makes Minseok tense.

He begins seeing more of Jongdae too – in the morning when the younger’s making toast or at night when he’s settled on the couch watching a movie on his laptop. Always with that upturned smile.

It is a late night on Friday when Minseok arrives home after working overtime. Jongdae is, once again, perched on the couch with a laptop on his lap and a bowl of popcorn on his side.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hey,” he answers, voice soft from being worn out. “What are you watching?”

“This.” Jongdae shows the screen. It’s a box office movie that came out a few months ago.

“I haven’t seen this one.”

“Wanna watch it with me?”

Jongdae covers his own mouth in a flash, like he just realised it might be over the line. But Minseok already finds himself walking towards the front of the couch and settling two feet away from Jongdae. “Yeah, sure.”

The movie is started, and it’s fast-paced and full of action. Any other time, Minseok will be drawn in – but now he finds himself dozing off, falling in and out of consciousness.

He is waking himself up for the fourth time, or maybe the fifth, when he notices the movie has been paused. He turns to his side, where he finds Jongdae already looking back at him. There is no reason for Minseok to blush, but his cheeks warm anyway.

“Why aren’t you watching?”

“You’re tired.”

“It’s fine, just keep it on, you can watch.”

“But you haven’t seen this one.”

“I’m fine-“

Jongdae closes the laptop. “I’m turning in, too. We can,” Jongdae hesitates, “we can continue the movie tomorrow, if you want?”

“Yeah.”

Silence settles, and they find themselves staring at each other still.

It is Minseok who first gets up and drags his feet, walking to his room as fast as possible and trying not to look back. “Good night.”

A lilting voice calls back. “Good night, hyung.”

⛆

Jongdae doesn’t know how to bring it up.

He considers what to say to Junmyeon. “It’s all good. I’m almost home from work now.”

“That’s great,” his brother says from the other side of the phone call. “Don’t work too hard. You’ve been eating those vitamins I gave you, right?”

“Yes, hyung.” Jongdae thinks. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“When you first got assigned to Joohyun-noona. What was it like?”

There’s a pause on the other side. “It’s not… as fast or as straightforward as it might seem,” Junmyeon says. “We took a bit of time to think things through.”

“But you said it was love at first sight.”

“I have eyes, Jongdae, that’s bound to happen,” Junmyeon laughs. “But you don’t base your whole relationship on that. We wanted to make sure that this was what each of us was looking for.”

This again. This is not what Jongdae wants to hear. “So it’s not that easy?”

“It’s not about being easy or difficult. You know that.”

Jongdae hums, unsure if he actually knows. “Hey, I’m going into the elevator. Talk to you soon?”

He bids his greetings and hangs up the phone. He looks around the elevator and thinks it’s strange how he’s started to get used to living in this building – to the wobbly door open button, the fluorescent tubes lighting the hallways, the view of the maidenhair trees from their living room while they watch movies together, Minseok’s humming of ballads while he cooks dinner when he thinks Jongdae is not listening.

His trail of thoughts ends when he reaches the apartment and finds a middle-aged couple standing by. The couple notices him and throws a knowing smile.

“Kim Jongdae?”

⛆

Minseok walks with a spring in his step and a bag of fried chicken in his hand. These days Jongdae would wait for him to get home so they can have dinner together, and it might be nice to not have either of them cook once in a while.

But as soon as he opens the door, he could feel gravity pulling him back down.

“It would be great if you could give a notice before you visit, Mom, Dad.”

“Why would I need to do that just to see my son?” his mother says. “I brought some kimchi fried rice, even Jongdae’s eating it.”

Jongdae shoots him an apologetic look mid-chewing. Minseok puts the chicken box on the island and joins the rest at the table despite having lost his appetite for the night.

“It’s been, what, months now?” his father says. “We need to talk about marriage. You’re planning on marrying my son, aren’t you?”

Minseok nearly chokes at the question – but Jongdae swallows slowly, and his expression turns blank, unreadable before he answers, “Yes, sir.”  
They’re in for a long night.

⛆

Minseok sighs as he closes the door following his parents’ departure. Jongdae stacks the dirty plates and brings them to the sink in silence. There’s a lot to digest.

They somehow agreed to a wedding four months from now, a small reception with only closest friends and family members. Minseok had asked for a ceremony at the registry office with paperwork and just a witness or two, but in the end a compromise was reached – following a barrage of passive aggressive comments that made Minseok’s ears burn.

Jongdae was mostly quiet throughout the discussion, only offering words of agreement or short suggestions when asked. Jongdae was polite and obliging to every request, every question, every comment, and Minseok’s parents liked him already.

“See, Jongdae’s not being difficult,” Minseok’s mom retorted. “You should think about the family, too, for once.”

Minseok shakes his head, as though it can help him shake off the memory.

He steps behind the kitchen island. “I’m sorry they ambushed us like that.”

“It’s okay,” Jongdae says, not looking at him. “I’m your partner. It’s what’s supposed to happen, right?”

Minseok goes silent, not knowing why his heart feels like sinking. He leaves for his room without another word.

No good nights are said.

⛆

Days go by and it’s not the same anymore. Jongdae no longer waits for Minseok to get home to have dinner. Whenever they see each other, they talk about logistics and little else – if there’s food in the fridge, if the washing machine’s occupied, if they need milk from the store.

It is Saturday and Jongdae sees Minseok for the first time that day when the latter comes out of his room, hair dishevelled and face sleepy.

“What are you making?”

“Jjigae,” Jongdae replies as he turns off the stove and takes the pot to the mat on the dining table. Minseok helps him with scooping out the rice, and the two soon sit face to face.

“This is really good.”

Blush rises to Jongdae’s cheeks. Minseok always says this whenever the younger gets the chance to cook. He’s not a great cook by any means, but Minseok’s compliments always sound so sincere, and always warm him.

There is a prick in chest when he remembers that Minseok may not want anything more than this.

“Well, you can have the rest. I’m going to my mom’s for the weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Minseok says. “Must be nice. Did she teach you to cook this?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae says. The thought of her puts a smile on his face. “She cooks really well. My brother does, too. If I didn’t live two hours away, I would drop in for meals every day.”

“Your family sounds wonderful.” Minseok says, his voice somewhat stricken.

“Yeah. Yeah, they really are.”

“Do you see yourself moving back to your hometown, someday?”

Jongdae thinks. “Maybe,” he says. “My job here pays well, though, so it helps everyone back home, too. But yeah, I am considering that.”

Jongdae finishes his meal earlier and takes his prepared duffel bag to go. As he makes his way out, he gains a glimpse of Minseok just staring at his plate, looking like he just swallowed a pebble. Perhaps the jjigae isn’t as good as he says. Jongdae tries not to think too much and leaves for the station.

⛆

In the morning after, Minseok knows he made a mistake.

Once Jongdae stepped out of the apartment, Minseok packed up the jjigae for the fridge and searched through his phone for something, someone, anything. And he succeeded.

That evening he drove himself to a downtown bar all dressed up, sat at one of the booths and ordered his drinks. He was on his third glass when the person he was waiting for appeared. She tapped his shoulder from behind, and he could smell the sweet, floral perfume.

And there Hani stood. Her hair was shorter and her heels higher compared to their old days, but her signature cheery smile hasn’t changed.

“Hey,” Hani greeted. “Should we go now?”

“Really, no niceties?” Minseok snickered, but finished his glass nevertheless. “Lead the way.”

On their way out he thought someone was calling his name, but he reassured himself his mind was just playing tricks and ducked through the front exit.  
He spent the night at her place just a block away. It was easy, relying on muscle memory, even if this time the room was nicer and the mattress was actually laid on a bedframe.

But reckoning came when dawn broke. Minseok looks to his side to find Hani in her sleeping gown and on her phone, and suddenly he feels so old, too old for this.  
Hani has been doing fine, he learned at Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s party. As fine as people their age can be. They pretty much stopped sleeping with each other by graduation, and then she found a role at a hotshot creative agency and has since continued to climb the corporate ladder. She was in a serious relationship for a year, and then it was over and gone. Such is life.

Since college years, he has thought things would be so much easier if they saw each other as more than friends.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Hani says, putting her phone down and turning to him.

“I shouldn’t have done this.”

“Figures,” she sits up on the bed. “Is there someone?”

Minseok nods, almost imperceptibly. “What if,” he begins, “What if this is it? What if I don’t get another chance at it?”

“What do you mean?”

Minseok inhales. “With your ex, for example,” he says. “How do you know if you can find another person after him?”

“I don’t,” she says. “I don’t know that. Nobody does.”

Minseok sits up against the headboard.

Hani continues, “I just learn to be okay with it, you know? I don’t want him to stay for the wrong reasons.”

“But he’s your assigned partner.”

“That has nothing to do with anything,” she smiles bitterly. “At the end, it was between me and this person, and it wasn’t working.”

Minseok feels a lump growing in his throat. “I’m sorry I brought this up.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine.”

“I know. You’re Hani, after all. You can get through anything. But still.” He laughs as he shifts and collects his clothing on the floor. “I should probably go.”

“Minseok,” Hani calls as he buttons his shirt. “Why don’t you think of yourself like that, too?”

“Like what?”

“You can get through this, too. You can try, you can fail, whatever. Anything can happen.”

Minseok wants to answer with _I don’t know if I can_. But in the end he just puts on a smile.

⛆

Jongdae almost doesn’t want to go back.

He spots Chanyeol at the lobby of the train station upon his arrival back from his mother’s place. The tall man hugs him and launches into a flurry about picking up his sister and their family dog and whatnot. Jongdae tunes in to all this attentively, happily.

And then Chanyeol talks about Minseok.

He says he was meeting some friends at a bar last night when he saw Minseok-hyung laughing and talking to a woman at a nearby booth. He was going to say hi and had called out his name, but the two left in a rush with hands intertwined. “Minseok-hyung’s girlfriend is so pretty! Have you met her?”

Jongdae’s heart wrenches. “No. No, I haven’t.”

“You should ask him! We can all hang out together. I’ll bring my partner too…” Chanyeol continues on, and Jongdae’s numb all over.

It takes all he can to separate himself from Chanyeol and find a bus to get himself home. Home, Jongdae scoffs to himself. He’s been so stupid all this time, calling Minseok’s apartment such a name.

When he gets through the door, he sees Minseok sitting on the couch of the living room, hand on his phone and head turned to him, as though he’s been waiting. Minseok never really spends time in the living room on his own, Jongdae realises now – it has always been with him. The thought leaves a bitter taste.

“Hey.” Minseok puts down his phone on the table.

“Hey, hyung,” Jongdae avoids his gaze.

“Is the trip back okay?”

“Yeah.” Jongdae’s grip is tight on his bag as he heads for his room, but Minseok’s words stop him.

“Can we talk?”

It’s happening. Jongdae braces himself and turns, waiting for the other to speak.

Minseok takes a deep breath, and his voice is small. “I spent the night with someone.”

“I know,” Jongdae says, catching a flash of shock on Minseok’s face. “Chanyeol said he saw you two at the bar.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be? You did nothing wrong. We weren’t even... together.”

“Still. I was yours. And I… Please.” Minseok gets up and follows Jongdae as he tries to walk away.

Jongdae halts by the hallway and wills himself not to let any tears fall. Minseok stands just a few feet away, gazing at him, and Jongdae could no longer hold back.

“Were you, ever?”

“What?”

Jongdae’s grip hardens. He looks up and braves himself to stare at Minseok. “Were you ever mine?” he says. “I’ve been here for months, and this is the first time we really talk about this. I see you, and I don’t- I don’t know if you want this.”

Jongdae hates the way Minseok’s eyes shine, the way his words seem to strike him in the gut, but he continues. “There were times when I thought that maybe, just maybe, you wanted me around. But I was just fooling myself, wasn’t I?”

Minseok shakes his head, eyes still shining, but no words come out.

“That girl,” Jongdae says. “Do you love her?”

“No,” Minseok answers through choked breath. “We never see each other that way.”

 _Then why_ , Jongdae is dying to say.

Silence settles among them. A stray tear runs through Jongdae’s face that he immediately wipes, out of anger at himself for crying at all.

“I’m sorry,” Minseok mutters. “I will call the company and tell them the arrangement’s off. I’m sure they- they can find you another partner.”

Jongdae couldn’t believe his ears. “Is that what you think it is?” he cuts. “Do you think I’m staying here just because I have been assigned to you?”

“Aren’t you?” Minseok asks, his voice more lost than accusing.

Only then does Jongdae register what he himself longs for. With or without arrangement. But the realisation hits him like a wave, rendering him speechless.

And Minseok seems to regard his silence as an acknowledgment. “I – I’ll give you time and space. I will be staying at my friend’s until Wednesday.”

Minseok steps away and Jongdae’s eyes sting. Words still get stuck in his throat when Minseok comes out not long after with his work backpack that’s a lot bulkier than what Jongdae has gotten used to seeing every weekday morning.

Jongdae tries not to crumple when Minseok looks back, meeting his gaze for a heartbeat before tearing it away and leaving through the front door.

⛆

Minseok arrives at Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s place with a damp face, having let it all out behind the wheel earlier.

The pair leaves him alone for the first night, but decides to take him out for dinner the next evening.

It is then that Minseok tells them everything.

“You are being dumb,” Kyungsoo declares flatly.

“Hey!” Baekhyun gasps at his boyfriend, but Minseok simply hums.

“It’s true – and not in the way that you think, hyung,” Kyungsoo persists.

“I mean, it’s for the best if Minseok-hyung doesn’t feel that it’s right with this Jongdae guy,” Baekhyun chimes. “Do you like him?”

Minseok blinks. The question never crossed his mind, not in such plain terms. “How I feel about him is irrelevant.”

“Wait, what?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just,” Minseok searches, “I’m not good for him.”

Baekhyun gapes and turns to Kyungsoo. “Wow, you’re right, he is being dumb.” Minseok gives him a look, but Kyungsoo nods in agreement.

Minseok insists on paying that night, and he thought Kyungsoo is going to try to get the bill when he follows him to the cashier. But he doesn’t.

“Baekhyun has a point,” he says. “For the remainder of your stay, please think it through.”

Minseok attempts to laugh it off. “Why is it that important? It’s not like I have the rights to-“

“To want?”

Minseok stills, and the words hit him like a storm.

He feels his tears coming up, and Kyungsoo is already extending his arms. Minseok melts into the embrace, hiding his face in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck.

“Dammit Kyungsoo.”

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo pats his back gently. “You’ll be okay.”

⛆

The following days are empty. Jongdae drags himself to work and back, not really talking to anybody. He reluctantly tries to eat the leftover jjigae in the first night and ends up throwing it out after a few spoonfuls.

Another night he scans his room, trying to re-pack his belongings. He doesn’t remember exactly when he unpacked them all, the clothes and books and pictures, and now they are scattered all over his room and he can’t go through with it, can’t move past stacking a few stray papers.

He shows up to work on Wednesday morning, eyebags darker and cheeks even more gaunt than the previous days. He has been telling his co-workers he has sleeping problems, but it’s Chanyeol that goes a step further to pull him by the arms to a nearby restaurant during his lunch break.

“You really don’t have to drag me, Chanyeol, I would go have lunch with you if you just ask,” Jongdae humours his co-worker.

“It’s worth the try,” Chanyeol says. “Don’t think I didn’t see you just eating sad toasts in the pantry yesterday. And the day before.”

Jongdae is grateful, even though Chanyeol doesn’t really have to go through such lengths for him. When he tells Chanyeol so, the tall man’s face morphs into a frown.

“You always say these things,” Chanyeol says. “’It’s all good’, ‘you don’t have to’. And I thought that was just to me, because I’m annoying, but you’re also like that to everyone else in the office.”

“It’s because it’s really all good, Chanyeol, I can manage.”

“You can also ask for help. Or anything else you need,” Chanyeol huffs. “I was so happy when you called me to hang out that time, you know?”

Warmth spreads inside his chest, and Jongdae tries to stave off the tickly feeling. “Didn’t you say I nearly threw up on you?”

“Yes, I did,” Chanyeol boasts. Jongdae can’t help but smile. “Just. If you need to talk or drink your problems away. Know that I’m here.”

“Thanks, Chanyeol. I wasn’t drinking my problems away though.”

“I didn’t say you were. You said that.”

“You brat.”

⛆

Minseok doesn’t know how much time has passed as he stays rooted in the carpark, too anxious to go out, too scared to face what may come.

He finally steps out of the car and heads for his apartment, bracing for whatever may come. Minseok presses the code and closes the door behind him, and notices the lights are on inside. He tries hard to suppress the hope growing in his chest, but there in the living room sits his partner, hugging his legs and staring into the distance.

“Hi,” Minseok says, and Jongdae turns to him, rings under his eyes. Minseok wonders if it’s because of him, and internally scoffs at his own sense of self-importance. As if.

“Hey.”

“Have you,” Minseok stammers, “Have you made your decision?”

Jongdae inhales, putting his legs down and staring at the ground.

“There are some things I want to set straight before I do so,” he says. “I’ve wanted this to work. It took me a while to see why. I’ve always known the company isn’t always right, but – I want to do this with you, regardless. I want to give us a chance.”

Jongdae swallows, as if trying to find his resolve, and looks up. “I’ve been keeping mum partly because I thought you needed time to figure it out, but also… because I was scared. But I don’t want to be like that anymore. And I don’t want you to feel obliged to stay with me, if… if you don’t feel the same way. If I’m not who you want.”

Minseok steps closer and settles at the other end of the couch, glancing at Jongdae to make sure he doesn’t mind the distance.

“I’m sorry.” Minseok is surprised at how steady his voice is. “I’m scared, too. This whole arrangement… I don’t know what kind of person you expected. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to disappoint your family, and. I don’t want you to wake up one day regretting everything.”

Jongdae’s breath hitches, and he looks so affected that Minseok wants to stop, tell Jongdae he doesn’t need to be so sad, not for him. But he isn’t done.

“I want to try, too. I want to do it right with you, from the beginning. Take our time until we’re truly sure, between us two. But. I understand if, if that’s not the time you have. Or the time you’re willing to spend.”

Minseok looks down, fiddling with his fingers, expecting the answer he’d like to hear the least. But he sees another pair of hands hold his.

“Do you want me?” a voice asks tentatively.

Minseok looks up. Their eyes lock, and his answer comes unbidden. “How can I not?”

Jongdae breaks into a radiant, shaky smile and squeezes his hands. “Then shall we try, together?”

⛆

It’s not easy telling Minseok’s parents that they want to postpone their wedding indefinitely. Minseok and Jongdae invite them over for dinner and endure their disappointed looks throughout the night. His parents are mostly placating towards Jongdae, but reserve the jabs and sarcastic comments for their own son. At one point, Jongdae reaches out under the table to hold Minseok’s hand, soft and unwavering.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Minseok says on their walk through the park the following weekend.

“Don’t be,” Jongdae says, thumb rubbing circles on the back of Minseok’s palm. The sunlight is warm, and though Minseok couldn’t quite get it off his mind, he starts to breathe more easily.

They make their way to the cinema and grab two tickets to a superhero movie. In the theatre they sit side by side with a pack of Cheetos between them, like they would at home, except Jongdae puts his head on Minseok’s shoulder. Minseok wonders if his partner feels just as shy as he does.

⛆

They begin sharing their morning commute in Minseok’s car. Minseok’s official working hour starts half an hour later than Jongdae’s, so Minseok will always come in a bit too early – but Minseok says it will help him cut back on overtime and get home earlier.

One morning the air is cold, and all Jongdae wants to do is curl under the blanket and steal more sleep. He turns off the two alarms he’s set and nuzzles back into his pillow.

He hears his name being called out from a distance, and then a few soft knocks. “Jongdae, you’re gonna be late,” the voice says from behind his bedroom door. He grumbles.

The door soon opens, and the voice gets clearer. “Jongdae?” There are footsteps approaching closer to his bed, along with the faint smell of aftershave he has become familiar with. “Are you okay? Are you not feeling well?”

“’M fine,” Jongdae mumbles. “C’mere.”

“You sure?” Minseok comes near the bed and Jongdae can feel a hand on his forehead, under his hair. The touch gives him a chill, and Jongdae flinches slightly.

“Why so cold,” Jongdae says, pulling the hand – and the whole arm – over his under the blanket.

Minseok laughs, and Jongdae can feel the warm breath of mint on his neck. He goes on to pull Minseok further onto the bed.

Slowly Jongdae blinks his eyes open and full realisation falls on him like a brick. He stills on the spot, his arm still perched over Minseok’s, frozen from horror of what he’s done.

He makes himself look at Minseok, and from this close he can see the nerves on Minseok’s smile, the way his face turns pink from blush.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

And a tinge of doubt. “Should I. Should I get up?”

“Only if you wish to,” Jongdae manages to answer.

Two, three seconds pass before Minseok shifts to snuggle closer, and the cold vanishes from the room.

That morning, Jongdae arrives at work 15 minutes late.

⛆

They are whipping up japchae together, and Jongdae is stirring the pan while singing that pop song that they both love. Minseok is washing his hands when his phone dings, and he checks it with mostly dried hands.

It’s a text from Hani.

It has a link along with the message: _I told you I’m fine ^^ I hope you are, too._ He clicks through the link and finds an e-vite to the wedding of Ahn Hani and Lee Jongwon.

“Hyung! Could you make the egg garnish?”

“Yep, I’ll get right on it,” Minseok looks up. Jongdae nods with a smile and turns back to the pan, turning over the content to sizzle, focused and in his element.

Minseok types back, _Congratulations and best of luck. I’m getting there._ He plants a wish, truly hoping she is happy and will continue to be. The reply is sent.

With one swipe he deletes the message thread, and then her contact.

The japchae is delicious, and he makes sure to let Jongdae know.

⛆

They are driving down the highway, and Jongdae glances with caution as Minseok continues to fidget with his sleeves behind the wheel. By the time Minseok attempts to button his cuff for the umpteenth time, Jongdae stops him.

“It’s okay, they’re gonna love you,” he says. “We can do this, just like we did with your friends.”

“Of course my friends loved you,” Minseok mutters, turning the steer. He clearly didn’t notice the wary look on Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s faces when he first introduced Jongdae to them, the younger thinks. Jongdae offers no more words, but he puts his hand on Minseok’s shoulder, and it calms him enough not to fuss anymore until they pull over in front of the house.

Magnolia trees are blooming as far as the eye can see, and Minseok is still stunned by the view when he is greeted with a hug from Jongdae’s mother. Junmyeon and Joohyun ask him how the car trip was, what living in the city is like, if his work is anything like Jongdae’s. Minseok at first answers with polite, factual replies, looking as though they might yell at him at any moment.

Jongdae takes his hand on the table and prompts him to talk about that film project that he did in college. Minseok begins telling the story he told Jongdae months before, about the short film he made with a group of friends, about its production process and submission to a festival, and he is in the middle of explaining animatedly how they planned the camerawork for a scene when his eyes widen in realisation. “I’m sorry, I’ve been talking for too long,” he puts his hand up. “It’s not that interesti-“

“You’re in the middle of the story, you can’t just leave it unfinished! Way to keep the suspense up,” Junmyeon says, laughing, not noticing the way Minseok’s lips purse, something that Jongdae has recognised as a telltale sign of him trying not to get overwhelmed.

By the end of the lunch, Minseok is deep in discussion with Joohyun about a play her kindergarten is going to hold, and Jongdae is tapped on the shoulder by his brother.

“You seem really happy,” Junmyeon says. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae glances at his partner. “Me too.”

They drive back home with packed leftovers on the backseat, which Minseok profusely thanks his mother for. Jongdae is removing a stray pink petal from Minseok’s hair at a traffic light when the older looks at him. “I see why you want to move back here someday.”

Jongdae wants to say, _you can, too_. But perhaps it’s not the time yet.

⛆

Summer rain washes the earth, and Minseok is waiting in front of Jongdae’s office building with an umbrella. He sees Jongdae stepping out of the elevator, and even from afar he could tell the younger man is looking him up and down.

“You look beautiful,” Jongdae plants a kiss on his cheek as he approaches.

“You saw me this morning,” Minseok teases. “Shall we go?”

“Actually, can we walk through the park?” Jongdae tangles his arm with Minseok’s, and he couldn’t, doesn’t want to say no.

The two stroll together under the umbrella, coursing through the same park they always visit. Jongdae begins talking about his day, sharing stories about his work and the new things Chanyeol has got himself up to. The chattering doesn’t stop even when Minseok pulls him by the shoulder, making sure his whole body is protected from the rain.

Minseok takes in the view of his crinkled eyes, the sound of his laugh, the way he looks at the droplets falling from the sky with wonder, and he can’t count how many times it’s occurred to him that he would love to be doing this for a long, long time. Even in the pouring rain, he can see the sun.

And even if it scares him, he wants to give it a chance.

So he halts his steps right there in the middle of the park, under the summer shower, and pulls out the ring he’s been keeping in his pocket for weeks. Jongdae’s eyes turn wide and tender.

“Do you want me?”

“Yes.”


End file.
